


Madame, je vous aimes.

by PopKorn



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Genderfluid Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:54:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26322985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PopKorn/pseuds/PopKorn
Summary: There's something peculiar about meeting the right people at the wrong time.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Madame, je vous aimes.

**Author's Note:**

> Keep in mind that this story takes place in the 18th century.

Aziraphale met her at a ball. One look at her and his world was turned upside down. His eyes followed her around the ballroom, trying to be as subtle as possible, but the word seems to be out of his vocabulary on this night, for one hour later, he was accosted by the same golden eyes that had captured his attention.

"Can I help you?" she said crossing her arms over her chest, an eyebrow raised.

An out of breath "what" was the only answer Aziraphale could utter. ~but you must understand the man. He had just met an enchantress~

She rolled her eyes. "You've been looking at me for a long time now. I had wondered if you had something to say to me."

But Aziraphale was still standing there speechless, barely hearing what she was saying.

"Well?" she said sharply, her foot tapping an impatient tattoo on the marble floor. "If it's because of-"

"Would you like to dance with me?" he blurted out, finally finding his voice.

She stopped talking and looked at him confused. "Dancing? You wanted to ask me for a dance?" Her cheeks turned a soft pink.

"Well, you don't have to say yes! I mean, you must have a million others waiting to have the chance. It was presumptuous of me to just- I know I'm not- sorry, I will just stay away and stop looking at you," Aziraphale squeaked. 

Crowley pinched his lips, trying not to giggle (no, not giggle - laugh! Yes, laugh. Crowley does not giggle. How dare you presumed otherwise??) at how flustered this man was.

She cleared her throat, "Well, no one had asked me before now," she said trailing her words.

"What?" he exclaimed, making people in their vicinity turn to look at them. "How can that be possible-?" he continued more quietly but stopped talking at the woman's look. "Oh."

"Yes, oh. Do you still care for that dance, or..."

Aziraphale's face lit up like a firecracker two seconds after midnight. His smile was so radiant that if Crowley had been one of those women of weak constitution, he would surely have had a case of the vapour and fell right on the floor. (His knees did turn momentarily soft. But you aren't supposed to know that.)

They danced for hours on end with no care for the outside world. At this moment, the universe could have imploded, and they wouldn't have realised as focused as they were on each other, laughing and having the time of their lives. 

"I've never met a woman like you," Aziraphale said softly. Crowley tensed in his arms, but Aziraphale wasn't really paying attention. He had a question for her and didn't know how to go about asking. The bells suddenly rang, signalling the end of the ball and pulling Aziraphale out of his thoughts. He looked at Crowley, but she was looking at the floor with a frown on her face.

"I must go," she said looking at Aziraphale with a small sad smile, turning around and walking in the direction of the doors.

Aziraphale could see his chance slipping through his fingers with each step she was taking, and he let his feet act before he could really think about it. He took Crowley's hand, asking out of breath when he could see her again, but Crowley with a moment of clarity had realised how in the dark the other man was about him and understood in that same moment, that it wasn't meant to be. Aziraphale could never know; he would feel cheated. How could he have been so stupid. 

"I'm afraid it won't be possible," he said, looking at him dead in the eyes, voice void of any emotions.

Aziraphale suddenly lost all the giddiness he was feeling. He wanted to ask why, but the expression on her face stopped him. He forced a smile. "I guess I can only cherish the moment we had together and pray that God in her infinite goodness will grant us another one," he answered quietly, looking intently at her and trying to find anything that would give him the slightest hope they could see each other again. 

But she only freed her hand and with a blank face said, "God is not that kind," and she was gone.

♤ ♤ ♤

***  
One week later, Crowley was walking alongside the lake in the park next to his house. There was no one in sight except a man feeding the ducks some...bread!?! He walked briskly to him, taking the bread out of the man's hands before chucking it away.

"Are you insane? You can't fee-" he started, whipping around to give the idiot a piece of his mind but froze when he saw who it was.

Aziraphale was looking at the man in front of him with big wide eyes. He wanted to say something, but everything happened so fast he couldn't make sense of the situation

"Did I do something wrong?" he finally asked in a small voice, looking around for a sign that feeding the ducks was prohibited.

Crowley mentally shook himself out of his frozen state, straightened and cleared his throat, and tried to act normally even though all he wanted to do was to run away.

"You can't feed ducks bread. It would make them sick," he said not looking at Aziraphale.

"Sick!? Wh-...why? How!?" Aziraphale asked, panicking because he had already fed them half a loaf.

"Yes. Sick. Bread is an unhealthy diet for ducks and geese and can lead to obesity or what we called 'crooked wings.'"

"How do you know all of that?" he asked in awe.

"Well, since I'm a veterinarian, I studied them. And it helps that I have a couple of them in my yard."

"A veterinarian? Never heard that word before. What does it mean?"

Crowley cleared his throat again, "Well you wouldn't have since I'm the first of my kind. Basically, I'm a doctor for animals. I take care of them," he said side-eyeing Aziraphale. He couldn't help it. He had thought the ball would be the last time he would ever see the man. He was as beautiful as he remembered, if not more.

"Thank you for telling me," he said with a bright smile. 

Crowley felt his heart stutter and had to restrain himself from putting his hand on his chest.

"But will they be okay?" Aziraphale asked in a worried voice. "And if not bread, what can I give them?" 

"They will. It's in the long run that feeding them bread affects them negatively, and you can give them corn. Here," Crowley said handing Aziraphale a little bag. "I have some on me."

After that, they started talking about different things. Crowley presented himself as Anthony, patting himself on the back for not forgetting, and apologised for the way he reacted. Aziraphale waved him off, saying that passion often leads people to react before thinking. He could understand. He had a library, and if people started disrespecting the books, he would probably have the same reaction.

"Well, except for the fact there's no way I would throw a book on the ground. It would damage the cover."

And they started laughing together. Aziraphale froze when he heard Crowley’s raspy laugh. He could swear he had heard it somewhere else. He turned slowly, looking at the man on his left and barely restrained a gasp when he saw the birthmark in front of his companion’s right ear. It was the same as Crowley's. He should know: he had observed it from afar for a bit of time and closely when he finally gained the courage to ask her to dance (more like she approached you and you practically yelled in her face to dance with you. Don't mix the facts Zira, dear.)

"I'm sorry. I have to go. I forgot to wash my...my socks," he squeaked, (oh oh oh, a second time? Nice.) bolting in the other direction, leaving a confused Crowley in his wake while Aziraphale’s brain was running faster than the wheel of a spinning jenny. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe they were family, twins perhaps. 

Arriving home, Aziraphale sat down heavily on the sofa. He wanted to believe that it was the only explanation, but the more he thought about it, the less the twins idea sounded plausible. He didn't know the mystery behind birth and how the human body worked, but surely even for people in the same family it would be impossible to have the exact same mannerisms. He reached in his mind for the memories of that night, an easy thing to do since he had been doing just that for the whole week. He thought of the way Crowley had pushed her hair out of her face with the back of her fingers. How she cocked her head to the side, her eyes squinted and a crooked smile on her lips. The way she had rolled her eyes at him when he said he didn't like apples very much and preferred pears. Aziraphale thought about all of that and started reflecting on the two hours he had passed with Anthony. Everything matched. How hadn't he seen it? The evidence was there, but it had taken until Anthony laughed for it to click in his head.

Aziraphale wanted to know for sure if he was right, but what could he do? "I can't just go talk to him, if it's a him, and ask 'Do you sometimes dress as a woman?' That would go over so well," he scoffed.

He put his head in his hand and groaned. In theory, he knew some men did that but had never given it much thought other than it was no one’s business. He also never thought about a man in this fashion but found that the idea didn't repulse him. He really wanted to talk with Crowley or Anthony or whichever her or his name was. He didn't even know where to find her. No - them. 

"Okay! Next time we see each other I will know," he said confidently. And with a smile, he thought, but I need to be sneaky about it.

♤ ♤ ♤

It wasn't long before Aziraphale stumbled upon Crowley again. A fortnight later to be exact, and it was Crowley this time. She was wearing a light blue dress and had a white umbrella leaning on her right shoulder. She didn't see Aziraphale and kept on looking through the glass of a shop where they were selling shoes. Taking a deep breath, Aziraphale started approaching her.

"Crowley is that you?" he said and watched her tense up. She turned around with wide startled eyes but quickly masked her surprise.

"Aziraphale," she said, nodding stiffly before she turned around and started walking away.

"Please don't go," Aziraphale said softly. 

She stopped and looked at him on the side but didn't say anything. Aziraphale took that as a sign she wouldn't leave and took the few steps necessary to be on her side. He didn't want her to feel trapped, so he left the space in front of her free, which she must have realised because her shoulders lost some of their tension. 

"I have missed you so dearly Crowley," he started, looking at his feet. "I don't know if that night meant something for you, but for me, it was the greatest gift life had given me so far," he finished quietly.

"It meant something to me too," she mumbled.

He looked at her and a large grin transformed his face.

"Walk with me?"

She nodded. 

They exchanged pleasantries and talked about the weather, the upcoming elections, and anything that was considered small talk. After some time, Aziraphale decided it was enough and turned the conversation where he wanted it.

"I think I met a member of your family last week. He told me his name was Anthony," he said, side eyeing her. "Your brother perhaps?" 

"My brother?" she asked, confusion clear on her face before realisation seemed to dawn on her. "My brother!" she exclaimed, laughing awkwardly. Aziraphale was grinning from the inside; he had his answer. "Yes, of course. My brother. Anthony. Where did you say you met him?" 

"By the lake," was his answer. 

"That's Anthony for you. Him and the ducks," she laughed again, but it was still forced.

Something in the back of his mind told Aziraphale that he should just tell her that he knew, but from the length she was going to keep it a secret, he felt he should let her reveal it by herself. But was it the right decision?

***  
They kept meeting for months. Aziraphale saw his companion in different forms, sometimes as Crowley and other times as Anthony. But there were times when Aziraphale was genuinely confused by his companion, like today for example. Anthony had sat in front of him so he had addressed him as such but Anthonyhad flinched when he did. It wasn't the first time it happened, but Aziraphale could never tell what brought it on. At first, he had thought it was the secret, but his companion would always act normally the next days.

After ordering their food, Anthony excused himself to the bathroom. Not even three seconds after, a woman sat in his place. He looked at her and was about to tell her the seat was taken, but she started talking before he could open his mouth.

"You know, don’t you?"

"What?" he said with a frown.

"You know about him," she said again, nodding her head in the direction Anthony went.

Aziraphale looked the way she pointed out before looking back at her, finally understanding what she meant.

"I don't know what you are talking about," he said, taking the tea towel in front of him and putting it on his lap to occupy his hands.

She snorted crassly and scoffed. "Don't act like I'm stupid. You may have fooled Crowley, but you can't do the same with me. I know you know about his three personas. Why you don't tell him I-"

"Three personas?" he asked.

She seemed ready to snap at him but upon seeing the genuine confusion on his face must have rethought her choice.

"Yes. Three," she said, leaning back in her chair and looking at him intently. "Anthony, Jamie, and Crowley."

"I...only knew about Anthony and Crowley. And I wanted to give them the chance to tell me themself."

She sighed and looked up like she was asking the sky for some patience before something seemed to dawn on her. "You said 'them,'" she started with a frown, "like it was the easiest thing ever." She looked down at the table, her frown deepening. "Crowley asked me to, but sometimes it slips. I must admit I can't really understand it."

Aziraphale cocked his head to the side, "They, them has always been used to talk about singular people in the English language. I read enough books to know that, and also, don't you use ‘they’ when referencing someone you don't know the gender of? It's not that different."

The woman in front of him seem to sag a bit at that. "Oh, I didn't connect the dots on that." She looked past Aziraphale and started to get up. "I need to go," she said, then glared at Aziraphale, "and you need to tell hi-them that you know." 

Before she could go away, Aziraphale held her wrist. "Wait! What's your name?"

"Anathema. Anathema Device." Her eyes seemed to lose some of their coldness. "Tell the truth. Crowley needs to know that there are more people on his side than he-they, than they think. And you are good for them. Don't let that lie stand in the way." 

And then she was gone. 

Less than a minute later, Anthony sat where Anathema had just vacated just in time for a server to bring their food. 

"I hope you weren't too bored while I was gone," Anthony said with a feeble smile, and Aziraphale took his time to look at his companion. Anthony's hair was rumpled, lips red bitten, and he looked kind of pale. Aziraphale observed all of that and realised him not saying anything wasn't such a good thing after all. That secret was eating away at his friend, and he realised that he should have come clean a long time ago. 

He must have stayed quiet far longer than he thought because Anthony's face was now sporting a concerned frown. 

"I know," Aziraphale said. "Crowley. I know." 

The concern was replaced by a myriad of emotions, each passing too quickly for Aziraphale to recognise them, before ending on that blank stare they use to barricade any feelings. 

Aziraphale tried reaching out to him with his hand but it was rapidly snatched away. He looked at his lap. 

"I should have told you, but I wan-"

"Was it funny?" 

"What?" Aziraphale said, looking up confused.

"Was it funny," he said through gritted teeth looking at a point past Aziraphale’s shoulder "to see me trying to keep everything together?

"Oh yeah. Let's get a good laugh at that freak who wears women's clothes. Let's see how long it will take for him to break," he said finally looking Aziraphale in the eyes, anger seeping from his pores barely concealing the hurt behind golden eyes.

Aziraphale tried to talk again, but he didn't get past a simple “I didn't mean to” before Crowley cut in again.

"Save it," he started putting the tea towel on the table with a shaky hand. "You will excuse me if I have to cut our dinner short. Have a nice evening," he finished before leaving Aziraphale well alone. 

♤ ♤ ♤

Weeks went by, and Aziraphale barely left his house, even to open his bookshop. He was currently drinking his sorrows at the end of a wine bottle when he heard a knock at his door. He tried to ignore it, but it came back again, becoming insistent. He sighed and got up, ready to send whoever it was away so he could go back to his alcohol. But when he opened the door and came face to face with the angry face of one Anathema Device, his mouth clicked shut, and he could only looked at her. 

"' I know'?" She said with a high pitched voice. "I know?" She said again, calmer but still like she couldn't believe it. "That's what you went with."

She went past him, leaving Aziraphale gaping at her, going into the living room like it wasn't the first time she came here and muttering about 'idiots with no conversational skills'.

He closed the door behind him and followed her. He was about to ask how she found his house when she cut him off again.

"You have to fix this," she said decisively. 

All Aziraphale’s tiredness came back to him full force. He sat down on his sofa, taking back his wine glass.

"How? I already mucked it up enough," he muttered, taking a long gulp.

"Not without my help, that's for sure," she said snatching the glass from him and putting it on the table. "There's a ball. I will convince Crowley to go and you will be there. You will talk to Crowley and explain every-thing."

Aziraphale snorted, "They didn't want to listen the first time around. What makes you think they will stay long enough for me to talk?"

"Because you know and don't judge them for it, and they need to know that. If not to have the happy ending you both wish for then simply to have closure." 

"Happy ending?" he said, his voice barely audible.

Anathema rolled her eyes, "I know you don't think of Crowley as a simple friend. I saw it in the way you looked at them in the restaurant. And I've heard them talk enough about you to know the feeling is mutual. 

"You both have a chance at happiness, but right now, you are the one holding the key to it. Because you and I know Crowley won't take that step," she said getting up, looking down at Aziraphale. "So will you stop moping around and try something to give you guys that chance for a nauseatingly pink future that I know you both want?" 

Aziraphale got up, suddenly looking determined. "Tell me about the ball," he said, and Anathema smirked.

The two weeks went by in a whirlwind of planning with Anathema asking every chance she got if he didn't "own anything other than tartan?" and Aziraphale doubting he could go through with the plan, and then it was the night of the ball and he couldn't turn away anymore. 

Slow music drifting from every corner. People chatting, dancing and eating were what greeted Aziraphale when he passed the door of the Pulsifer's house. He took a glass of champagne from one of the server's trays to calm his frazzled nerves when the sound of low laughter captured his attention. 

His eyes searched the room until they landed on the reason he was there that night. Crowley. She was talking to Anathema and other women, but Aziraphale wouldn't be able to tell how many for his eyes couldn't look away from Crowley. She was wearing a peach coloured dress, pearls around her beautiful neck and ears.

Sensing eyes on her, she looked up, her smile freezing on her lips when she saw him before disappearing completely. She took a step back looking scared, and Aziraphale felt his chest constrict with the knowledge that he had been the one to put that look on her face. Aziraphale needed to reassure her and started walking in her direction, but it seemed to distress her even more. At his third step, she bolted in the direction of the glass doors. He chanced a look in Anathema's direction. Their eyes locked and she nodded at him, her lips forming the word 'go'. 

Aziraphale started walking more quickly, pushing people without care for their yelps. He passed the doors just in time to see Crowley reaching one of the garden's lampposts. He ran after her, stopping her by the wrist.

"Crowley! Wait," he said panting.

She tried to extricate herself from his grip, but Aziraphale wouldn't let go. He needed her to listen.

"Please Crowley."

The desperation in his voice seemed to do the trick because she stopped struggling, but her whole body was tense. He slowly let go of her.

"What do you want?" she asked in a cold voice. "Here to ridicule me in front of everyone?"

Aziraphale looked like he had been slapped, and Crowley turned his eyes in the distance. "You must know I would never do something like that."

She let out a bitter laugh, turning back to Aziraphale "Do I? I find out the person I went months talking to, while hiding pieces of myself in the fear that he would have rejected me were he to find out, knew all along about the secret that was killing me, but he only watched on while I fumbled through every little thing I said trying not to give myself away.

"So sorry if I can't really trust your words right now." 

Aziraphale nodded, "You are right. I should have told you that I knew. While it won't excuse it, can I at least explain why I didn't?"

Crowley made a movement with her hand in a 'go on' gesture.

"I thought it would be better if I let you tell me by yourself." He held out a hand when Crowley was about to interrupt. "I thought that one day you would feel comfortable enough to 'reveal' everything to me. Crowley, I really didn't mean to hurt you, believe me. But in my mind, all I could think about was that I knew how it felt to have people deciding what was right for you, and I wanted to give you the choice.

"I realised a little too late that there was too much at stake for you to just come out and say it. While most people won't outright say bad things about you, it could have still cost you a lot to reveal something like that to someone and for that person to end up being a bigoted idiot. 

"It is obvious to me now that you didn't know where I stood on the matter, which is why you couldn't have told me. And I'm sorry for not understanding it sooner." 

Only silence followed his words. 

Aziraphale nodded, "Right." He nodded again, turning around to walk back into the ballroom, but Crowley's voice stopped him.

"And where is that?" she asked softly.

Aziraphale looked back at her. "What?" he said.

"Where do you stand on the matter?" she repeated louder.

He didn't even pause. "I think you look breathtaking in that dress," he said watching her intently.

"And when I'm not in that dress?" 

At that, Aziraphale smirked. "Well. I haven't got the chance to see you naked yet."

She scowled at him, but the effect was diminished by the blush on her cheeks. "You know what I mean. And I may be wearing a dress, but I’ve still got man's bits."

"I know. I still think you're quite fetching out of it. As for the second part, I know that too and I'm more than okay with it." 

"You really are, aren't you?" she said, trying to find the lie on his face.

Aziraphale shrugged, "I like what I like. Isn't it the same for you?"

Crowley's eyes started watering and Aziraphale took a few steps until he was in front of her.

"Oh Crowley," he said before pulling her body against his. 

She put her face in his neck, whispering softly. If they hadn't been so close, Aziraphale wouldn't have heard what she said.

"There's no other possibility. You must be an angel, for most would have ridiculed and thought me quite debauched."

"An angel?" he asked in wonder, pushing her gently so he could look at her and erasing a lone tear gliding on her cheek. 

"Then you must be a demon, for you have bewitched my heart so completely. And I must be debauched too if I do not find anything wrong with the way you were created. Frankly, I do not know if what I'm feeling is normal, but I would reject normality in a heartbeat if it means I could never hold your hand in mine ever again. 

"My life was quite dull before that celestial day, Crowley, and I came here today, with much pushing from Anathema," he added, which made Crowley laugh, "for I need you to know that if you will have me, that I will accept you in every form you will come in. As Anthony when the days are grey and sad, as Jamie when they are blue and calm, and as Crowley when they are windy and brutal. 

"I do not pretend to understand why things are the way they are," he said shaking his head, "but they are part of you, therefore that’s the only reason I need to love them."

"You are one peculiar fellow, mister." she said, letting out a wet laugh. "Look what you've done now. My makeup cost me a fortune, and you came and ruined it."

"I guess it only means I should buy you more," Aziraphale said with a fond smile on his face.

"I will hold you to it," Crowley answered with mock sternness.

"But where are my manners," Aziraphale suddenly exclaimed and took a step back, extending a hand toward Crowley. "Madame," he started, trying to keep the aristocratic facade but failing miserably, "would you care for a dance?"

And Crowley, no matter how hard she tried, couldn't help the smile that bloomed on her lips when Aziraphale kissed the back of her hand. "I would love to."

**Author's Note:**

> If you saw any mistakes you can tell me. Spelling or otherwise. Also if you think I should had more tags. Just be kind about it :)
> 
> My bestfriend betaed that one for me ☺ If you are seeing this Lunes, Hi!!!!!!


End file.
